Maybe It's All About Timing
by OncerinLoVe
Summary: OQ AU oneshots. Because who needs canon anyway? Current Chapter: Robin is Regina's waiter while she's on a date
1. Meet Ugly

I always want more AUs for these two and I can't make anyone do them all for me. So I figured I should shake off the cobwebs and write something. Plus I saw the prompt on tumblr and couldn't help but think of OQ. Sorry about any formatting or editing issues; I wrote this in an airport and this site is a pain in the ass on my phone.

Summary: _"We met each other on a Sunday morning, both_ doing _our walk of shame" AU._ Also sorry Brooklyn for throwing you under the bus a bit.

* * *

Regina forcefully presses the down button yet again, even though it's already lit up and has been since she first pressed it two minutes ago. The hallway is deserted at this hour, the quiet _tap tap tap_ of her of left foot is the only sound disturbing the silence. If not for the stilettos she'd foolishly decided to wear to the party last night, Regina would just take the stairs. She's reaching out to press the button again when the rickety elevator doors open.

It's empty, thankfully, since she's not in the mood for people. Cora's voice echoes around in her head every time, reminding her that _this_ is why she's still single and a disappointment to her mother. She can mostly push it aside, but today she looks (and feels) like a mess: she can't decide whether the dress that seemed so sexy last night needs to be pulled up or pulled down to cover her up in the impending crisp morning air, her hair is a mild disaster because she's only had her fingers to try and tame it, these shoes are killing her feet, and there's no hiding that she's in last night's outfit at seven in the morning. Worst of all, Regina is not a morning person. Especially when she's hungover and supposed to have lunch with her sister. At least she had enough makeup with her to look passable.

The elevator crawls from the seventh floor to the fourth, and comes to a sudden stop.

"Shit," Regina mumbles to herself as the door opens and a man gets in beside her. She keeps her eyes laser focused on the wall, in no mood to be judged, hit on, or both. He doesn't receive the hint, and starts making small talk. She'd prefer the judgement.

"Good morning," the man says, entirely too chipper for Regina.

"What makes you think it is?" she snarks with the most withering stare she can manage. The man rolls his eyes, but it's silent the rest of the way down as they both stare at the door. Regina considers that a win.

"Have a good day," he says with a smirk as they exit the elevator.

Regina stalks off in exasperation with his _politeness_ and that smug smile he gives her, knowing he's being annoying and enjoying it.

Slowed down by her heels, it doesn't take long for him to walk past her on the street and out of her sight.

She makes her way down the stairs at Bedford Avenue and of course the station is empty save for the man from the elevator. It fills her with an irrational anger and she briefly wonders if he's following her, before it dawns on her that thanks to the heels he's beaten her down here and had no idea she was coming here to begin with.

He turns at the clacking of her heels on the ground, the corners of his lips turning up.

"You again," he comments with far more fondness than is warranted by her previous glaring. She must stand there with her arms crossed and irritation written across her face for a while because he starts speaking again, this time in a more conciliatory tone. "Look the train won't be here for another ten minutes so you can keep staring at me like I'm the cause of all your problems or you can accept that I'm not and everything will be more pleasant for both of us. We could even talk to each other uneeds you want to keep staring at your phone."

Regina rolls her eyes, but her phone doesn't have service and it's not like she has anything better to do.

"Fine," she answers, trying not to be terse and mostly failing. He seems unbothered.

"I'm Robin."

He sticks out his hand for her to shake, and Regina would roll her eyes but he's got a dimpled grin on his face and apparently she's become a sucker for that because she smiles back and takes his hand.

Now that she gets a good look at him- Robin, she corrects internally, is quite attractive what with the warm smile, the bright blue eyes and the sandy scruff. And not that she's ever been someone who fawns over accents, especially after Graham and his Irish one left her for Emma, but now that he's not irritating her she's appreciating that smooth voice that would probably sound so good low and whispering dirty things in her ear.

The thought pops into her head without warning and Regina abruptly drops his hand to wrap her arms around herself. Only because she's cold. And many a little bit because _shit_ it's been less than eight hours since she last had sex, her libido should really be settled by now.

"Do you want my jacket? You seem cold."

Regina doesn't know whether to be annoyed or appreciatively that he's nice too.

She shakes her head and grumbles, "I hate Williamsburg."

"So why are you here?" he asks, genuinely curious as far as she can tell, if also subtly checking her out from of the corner of his eyes.

"My friend's jackass hipster boyfriend insisted on throwing her a birthday party here instead of Midtown where all her friends are."

Her tone becomes significantly more biting as she thinks about Walsh. That he's a friend of her sister's, as well as a pretentious idiot, only makes Emma's choice of boyfriend more vexing and irksome.

He starts to ask if that's why she's still here, but she cuts him off.

"Do I not look like I'm fresh off a one night stand? Please let's not do this beating around the bush thing."

"Me too," he replies with the good sense not to answer her question. "Then I guess your night improved," he continues leadingly.

"Let's just say the sex wasn't worth staying in Brooklyn for. Fine but unremarkable. And she tried to feed me some gluten free, vegan breakfast. You?" she volleys back, unable to suppress her disgust at the chia seed concoction Maddy-Megan-whatever offered. Like she needed to be starving on top of everything this morning.

"Well the sex was good. But this morning I woke up to her phone ringing. Turns out her boyfriend had no idea where she'd gone off to last night. I figured that was my cue to leave," Robin finishes sheepishly, shoving his hands in his pockets.

She makes an attempt, a paltry one, to suppress a laugh and fails spectacularly. At first he looks offended, which only makes her laugh more, but eventually joins in. She's practically out of breath by the time the train arrives, his laughter sending her back into hers and hers triggering Robin's once again.

"You have a lovely laugh," he compliments when they're seated and moving back towards Manhattan, another one of those dimpled grins on display. Heat flares under her skin and Regina's usually good with compliments because _well_ they're normally true. But no one's ever said a thing about her laugh and meant it too. He does, Regina can tell.

Regina slips her feet out of her stilettos, stretches her legs out in front of her, and lets her toes crack as she curls them in and out. There's no one else on the car except her and Robin and she can't take another second with her feet stuffed on those shoes. AS a bonus it provides a sufficient distraction from the way he was looking at her.

"Oh that feels good," Regina all but moans. He clears his throat uncomfortably and it wasn't Regina's intention but she shoots him a smirk anyway.

Robin is opening his mouth to speak when her stomach grumbles, loudly and unladylike.

"Maybe you were too quick in refusing breakfast," he mocks affectionately.

"Oh no I wasn't. I know this great diner in Midtown, Granny's. It's a hidden gem with prices that haven't changed since the 80s." Regina doesn't know why she says it. Well she does, she already doesn't like the thought of parting ways with him so soon. But she can't puzzle out why she's already so invested in this stranger.

"Well I'll have to check it out sometime then," Robin answers, and she debates whether to actually extend an invitation.

"I mean I can't stop you from going there now. If you wanted to." He raises an eyebrow, probably in inimitation of her. "Well it's a public place and there are knives in case you turn out to be a creep," Regina deadpans, arching an eyebrow back. Robin laughs again, quiet but rich, warming her in a way she doesn't care to examine right now.

"Well in that case I'll let you lead the way." He pauses for a beat. "So does this mean you'll tell me your name?"

She does reveal her name, and a lot more by the time they emerge from the station, conversation coming easily. By the time they're ensconced in a booth Regina's bitching about Zelena and stealing bites of his apple pancakes while insisting _of course_ _she only wanted an_ _omelette_ like they've been doing this for years.

When their plates are both empty, the bill is paid, and the diner is starting to fill up, Regina can't justify staying any longer uneeds she wants to get lunch with her sister without a shower or a change of clothes.

"I should really get going," she says apologetically, sliding out of the booth. Robin doesn't follow, taking the pen from the check and scribbling on a napkin.

"Here." He hands it to her, finally standing too. "In case you ever want to use it."

She looks down to see seven digits scrawled there, an invitation to make this a beginning rather than an end. All she has to do is meet him halfway. But Regina Mills never does anything _halfway_.

"Do you want to do this again sometime?" Regina asks, suddenly timid. This instant connection she feels could be one-sided, or he might not want to date a woman he met on a walk of shame who snarled at him in an elevator.

"Meet up after one night stands and get breakfast?" he teases, flashing those endearing dimples. He's trying to defuse the tension she must clearly be displaying, but that's not what she wants.

"I was thinking dinner. Where you could see me in last night's dress when you're supposed to instead of the next morning." She pushes a stray hair behind her ear, mentally berating herself for the insecurity obvious in her tone. "Well unless you play your cards right," she jokes without much humor.

"Like a date?" Robin asks, a little too smug to be at all confused about her intentions. She fixes him with another glare, which only causes him to chuckle. "I would love to go on a date with you Regina," he answers softly.

"Well then I guess I'll text you." She walks away unable to contain a smile. Even Zelena can't dampen her spirits.

As it turns out there's breakfast after their first date too. Only this time it's in Robin's kitchen instead of Granny's and Regina's dress is left on the bedroom floor in favor of Robin's shirt.


	2. Jessica Jones AU

Summary: Regina Mills, also known as the Evil Queen, has given up her former villainy after her son gets caught in the crossfire. Two years later, she prefers to drown her sorrows in alcohol, which leads her to Robin Locksley's bar and his bed. AKA an angsty, sad Jessica Jones inspired AU.

Warning for: sex, language, alcohol abuse, angst, mentions of violence, mention of a consensual relationship between Regina and Graham, anything sensitive that appeared in some capacity on the show.

/ _Once again the Dark Swan is this city's savior. Today when-_ /

"Can you change the channel?"

Regina looks up from her vodka martini when she hears her rival's name. She directs her inquiry, one that sounds more like an order than a request, to the bartender who's been particularly attentive since she walked in. Of course he's been exceedingly friendly to everyone, but there's friendly and there's flirting and he's towing the line. So of course he just smiles when faced with her grumbled demand.

"You must be the only person in the city who isn't a fan," he remarks idly while changing to ESPN.

Her fingertips burn, the sparks simmering under her skin. No one needs to remind her how loved Emma is by everyone, by Henry. She thinks about it enough. When she isn't thinking about how alone she is because of her.

She hasn't had _nearly_ enough to drink to deal with anything Emma Swan.

It's tempting, would be so easy to tell this bartender who the Dark Swan really is, to enact her own justice for everything Emma has taken from her. But Henry wouldn't have approved, and all she wants is to make Henry proud, to get the chance again. Besides, Regina keeps too many of her own secrets to spill her guts to a stranger. So she fixes the man with her most withering stare and retorts.

"Maybe I don't believe that an idiot running around in red leather and a mask is the supreme moral authority. There are laws for a reason," Regina snaps back with an intensity that shocks her.

"Well there's the law and there's justice, isn't there?"

 _Justice_.

She wanted justice for Daniel and they called her a villain. And she _knows_ now that she was wrong. But Regina also knows these _heroes_ and they've been wrong too. Their justice hasn't been pure either and it makes her blood boil.

But as soon as her anger begins, it ends abruptly. She's tired, of fighting, of anger, of her empty life.

"I suppose you're right," she replies, resigned, suddenly becoming overly interested in the drink in front of her.

It's not that her rage is gone, that she doesn't burn. But it is a useless anger now. The fire is still there, but it burns her up instead, eating away at her soul. Not simply in a metaphorical sense, at least according to Dr. Whale, physician to the superhumans. Using her powers in anger so often is literally making her blood boil, poisoning her heart and killing her slowly. Some days Regina thinks that's not such a bad thing.

"I'm Robin," the bartender says after a long bout of silence, placating, like he's trying not to spook her.

Even trying to ignore everyone else there, she managed not only to puzzle out that his name already, but that he owns the place, lives upstairs, and knows every single person who's walked in by name. And quite a few people have walked in for a Tuesday night.

"I know," she grumbles without thinking. "Clearly I don't particularly care," she continues clearly and coldly, looking back up with narrowed eyes. She doesn't need to be _handled_.

"Just being friendly," he answers _still fucking smiling_ like he knows something she doesn't and it renders her temporarily speechless.

She'd known it was a mistake to stay here not long after walking in and noticing the camaraderie among these people who probably make less in a week than the cost of the Jimmy Choos she's wearing. By the looks on their faces when she walked in, they were probably thinking the same thing. There's only one reason Regina's still here despite sticking out like a sore thumb: no one she knows, as Regina or the Evil Queen, would be caught dead here. And her permanent banning from the Rabbit Hole after one too many incidents has left her without many other options.

He apparently takes her continued silence while she ponders this as some kind of offense, because his smile starts fading. It gives Regina a bittersweet satisfaction, because even though it's what she wanted, she's so used to being hated, feared, or both, that it was nice (in its irritating way). And whatever, the dimples didn't hurt.

"I just thought you might want to talk about something," Robin says, his blue eyes boring into hers. And he sounds, well, a lot like Dr. Hopper, Henry's therapist who always seemed to think _she_ was the one who really needed to be there. As though the brokenness inside her can be sensed by the sort of people who think they can fix it.

"Yes I'm sure _talking_ is what you had in mind every time you ogled me when you thought I was too absorbed in my drink to notice," she bites back, perhaps harsher than the situation deserves, though she can find no regret for it.

Regina expects him to walk away, angry to have been caught with motives other than altruism.

"No," he answers, never breaking eye contact, not at all unbalanced like she thought.

"And what are you going to do about that? Besides stare at me like a horny teenager of course," she taunts, because truly a reaction, a revelation that this alleged selflessness is all a means to an end, is what she wants.

But her instincts have failed her, because all she gets is a sad smile. It's tender, understanding in a way that makes her feel a twinge of regret for attempting to goad him.

"With all you've had to drink, nothing," he replies, more earnestly than she feels comfortable with. "And I'd hardly want to make you uncomfortable even if you were sober."

It isn't as though she planned on accepting any advances he may have made, but now it's become a point of pride. She wants to prove to Robin, to herself, well she's not sure what exactly. But he doesn't get to decide she's more pitiable than desirable. If nothing (or something) happens, it's going to be on her terms. Always.

She fixes him with her best bedroom eyes, well-practiced to seduce men into giving up information and realign their loyalties. Of course there's far less nefarious intent involved, but it works just the same.

"I'm not drunk. So if all you're offering is talk, then it's time I seek out," she slowly licks her lips and because men are so predictable and so easy his eyes are immediately glued there and he's swallowing thickly, "better prospects."

He just stands there for a moment, swallows but otherwise remains motionless. It feels a little like victory. Someone on the other side of the bar calls his name and it breaks him out of his stupor. He holds up one finger to the man and turns back to her.

"I'd hate to see you go. We close in twenty if you don't mind sticking around," he answers, quietly enough that only Regina can hear, more aware than she of the patrons near her that have no doubt heard enough.

"We'll see," she says with a smirk and the wide grin he gives her makes her heart clench for the briefest instance. Then he's off, dealing with his other costumers, impatient after the time he's spent with her.

The twenty minutes drag on as Robin steals glances at her every chance he gets, that same grin still on his face. He stops by five minutes in with a glass of water. She arches her eyebrow when he puts it in from of her. He arches right back, unamused, and they spend a few seconds locked in battle before she starts to drink it. She makes a show of rolling her eyes when he smirks. _Insufferable_ , she thinks, but there's not much real irritation behind it.

As it draws closer to midnight, Regina can see him getting more and more impatient with those still lingering. His glances get desperate and keeping the pretense that she may walk out at any moment, she makes a show of considering the door every so often.

A few of the people leaving give her knowing looks, none of which she acknowledges.

At five past Robin escorts the last customer out and into a cab, paying the cab fare and a generous tip from what she can hear.

He locks the door and gives her a sheepish smile

"Thanks for waiting. I just need a few more minutes to clean up."

She purses her lips at him, but doesn't say a word. Instead she taps her fingernails one by one on the bar over and over to convey her impatience.

They sit in silence he puts away glasses and wipes down the bar. Regina watches as he rushes through, overeager. It's something Regina might normally find unattractive but she doesn't tonight. He's quite good-looking too, she notes, now that she finally has some time to really consider him. He works meticulously, even though his impatience is clear. While she's making hers known, she does appreciate a thorough job well-done. Especially if that work ethic extends to whatever is going to transpire between them soon.

"You know you haven't told me your name yet," he says, breaking her out her own thoughts.

She considers not telling him, or giving him a fake name, but ultimately settles on the truth. How much harm can it do at this point?

"Well I'm just up the stairs _Regina_ ," he says, heading for the back, not looking to see if she follows.

She does.

Once they make it into his apartment, Regina idly takes in the details. A small kitchen and living room are opposite the door. As he leads her down the hallway, she passes two doors. She notes the caps on all of the outlets. The third and final door must be to his room, because he pushes it open. He switches on the light and before he can move his hand away, hers covers it and shuts the light back off. There's enough for the necessary visability from the light seeping through his shades. Robin opens his mouth to protest, but she beats him to the punch.

"You need to wash your hands before they're getting anywhere near my cunt. And we'll need a condom, no negotiating," she says matter-of-factly.

He stares at her for a moment, taken aback by her bluntness she assumes. Regina turns around and that seems to spur him into leaving the room. She makes her way to the chair in the corner of the room and begins to shrug off her jacket and heels. She makes quick work of her silk shirt and slacks, laying them out on the chair to prevent wrinkling and enable easy access for a quick exit.

She's just unhooked her bra, when she feels a pair of hands on her shoulders, stopping it from slipping off. She jumps a little, because he's surprised her and his hands are cold from the water, but mostly because it's been so long since she's been touched by anyone outside of a fight. (Like Emma in the hospital, when she found out the truth after Henry and - no she won't think about any of that right now.)

"Sorry," he murmurs and she waves it off.

He allows the bra to drop as one hand moves to hold her hair to the side, the other resting on her hip. Then his lips are making their way from her shoulders to her neck, then up to her ear. Her skin practically sparks, though thankfully doesn't, at each place he kisses. She can't tell if it's her powers acting up at the feeling or a more human response.

"You know I was quite looking forward to undressing you," he whispers once he makes it to her ear.

Regina doesn't think before she answers.

"Well life's full of disappointment," she replies flatly.

He tenses behind her and she quickly realizes her mistake. She managed to assuage his concern with flirtation before, but now she's let him see too much.

She immediately misses the proximity when he steps in front of her, a safe distance away and worry in his eyes.

"Regina are you sure-"

She cuts him off, annoyed that they're back to this. Her palms burn with it, but she keeps it under her skin and she crosses her arms to prevent any damage if her temper spirals out of control and convey her irritation.

"I think we should avoid any unnecessary talking."

She gives him her most vicious glare, but Robin is not cowed and his expression hardens in response.

"Well that's fine by me. Because I find this extremely necessary," he says with conviction before his voice softens again. "Are you sure you want to do this? We could just talk."

Her hands grip the collar of his green t-shirt, pulling him into a bruising kiss. His hesitance seems to be gone as he backs her to the bed. Regina's thoughts fade away as they kiss and touch. Her mind is mercifully clear when his fingers work her to a peak. She rolls onto her elbows and knees while he rummages through his bedside drawer for a condom, luxuriating in the warmth of her powers simmering under her skin and the way her thoughts are reduced to just _more_.

The blankness remains while he fucks her, when he comes and then makes her come again, even when he pulls out murmurs an _I'll be right back_ into her hair. It's the tender kiss he presses onto her lips that breaks the spell.

She needs to leave before he starts trying to talk to her again.

Her legs are wobbly when she first stands, unused to this feeling after so long. _Two years_ she thinks idly, since Graham and sex and the beginning of the end. Her strides to her clothes become purposeful, any trace of the afterglow vanished. The vodka's gone, but she still has whiskey at home, enough to make her black out. She begins to redress, when Robin's voice startles her.

"Leaving already? You could give it at least a few minute before bolting."

He's teasing, she can tell by his voice and the way he casually leans against the doorframe. But her mind is so focused on getting home so she can drink and pass out and actually get some rest before work tomorrow that she takes too long to respond.

"Why don't you get back in bed? Not to brag but I'm a pretty good cook, especially where breakfast is concerned."

He's giving her that dimpled smile, and it almost distracts her. But the last thing she needs is to have him trying to turn this into more than a one night stand.

"Look this was nice, but we don't need to pretend it's something that it's not."

She keeps her tone firm, and his smile dampens.

"Well I'm not asking you to go steady," he says sarcastically. Then he holds up his hands in supplication and continues a bit more wearily. "Look, it's late and I'd rather you stay until its light again. Please. For my own peace of mind."

"I can't believe you used the phrase 'go steady' in 2017," she replies incredulously, at a loss for any other response, but shrugs back off her top.

He looks entirely too smug as she walks back towards the bed. And even though she only plans on staying long enough for him to fall asleep to avoid turning this into a fight, she feels the need to say something back.

"Don't you dare think about cuddling, or I will leave," she adds as they climb under the covers.

His laugh is loud and uninhibited, and to Regina's surprise it makes her smile.

They both lay on their sides, a considerable distance between them. Neither seem inclined to sleep, leading to an awkward silence.

"As much as I'm enjoying this quiet game you've decided we're playing, it could be nice to chat," Robin suggests.

There's a twinkle in his eye that makes it feel like a challenge. And Regina Mills is not a woman to back down from a challenge.

"Alright. Where's your child right now?" He looks at her, surprised. "This apartment is childproofed. There are toys in the living room. It's obvious."

Once again, he's hardly knocked off like she expects. She thought the question would shut him down, but Robin answers her with ease.

"My in-laws take him on Tuesday and Thursday nights when I work late."

"So you can do this?"

It comes out like an accusation, although Regina's thinking more of her trysts with Graham with Henry in the house (the source of a fair bit of conflict and judgement with Emma before her secret identity was even revealed) than the man she's speaking to.

If he's offended, it doesn't show on his face or in his even tone.

"No." She raises an eyebrow at that, and he amends. "Not in particular anyway. Although as you can clearly tell, it does happen. They want to spend time with their grandson."

"How old is he?"

"Five."

There's a bright grin that lights up his entire face when he says it, the same look she used to have whenever Henry was involved.

"That's a good age," she says wistfully.

Henry was so smart at that age, at every age. He learned how to read before any of the other kids in his class could. Even then he was telling stories. And so cheerful. It baffled her then, how she managed to raise a happy, vibrant boy despite being who she was. Henry oblivious to her former villainy then. She was just mommy to him (and she was just a mother then, only returning to darkness when Emma came into their world).

There are tears burning her eyelids, desperate to fall if she would let them. Instead she blinks the tears away, startled to see Robin carefully considering her when she opens them again.

"It is," he agrees and they're both quiet for a moment. He's still staring contemplatively at her. "And your child?"

There's something knowing in the way he says it that puts Regina on edge. She's been avoiding the topic all night long and regardless she's managed to lead them here.

"What makes you think I have one?" she snaps back without most her usual bight.

"You seem like a mother," he replies plainly, undeterred by her suspicious gaze.

It's silly, but she can't help but get stuck on his words. The Nolans and their circle have made it clear that Emma's Henry's _real_ mother. That after everything she's done, everything she is, she can hardly claim otherwise. Sometimes Regina thinks that they're right. But even though Robin doesn't know her, he refers to her as a mother like it's the obvious truth.

Once again, she's forced to blink back tears.

"I am. But I don't want to talk about it," she says, doing her best impression of unemotional.

"I'm sorry," he answers and she can tell he means it.

Robin's made the assumption and she should leave well enough alone. But she corrects him anyway.

"He's not dead if that's what you're thinking. He's just-" she cuts off, unable to bring herself to finish. To say that the doctors say he may never wake and it's all her fault for trying to hurt Emma. Nearly two years and she still can't say the words.

Robin's hand makes its way across the distance between them to find hers. He squeezes once, a look of compassion in his eyes, before withdrawing. She expects him to press, but he doesn't say another word. He holds her gaze for a moment, giving her the opportunity to speak. She does not.

"Goodnight Regina," he says softly, like the words mean something far more important.

He rolls onto his other side so he's no longer facing her. She listens to the sound of his breathing, waiting for it to even out so she can leave.

She doesn't remember falling asleep, but the first rays of sunlight peeking through the shades make it obvious that she had.

She forgets for a moment, where she is and how she got there. The foreign bed, bedmate, and apartment are not what most unsettles her. She's woken up from thirst rather than another nightmare about her son, a feat that normal requires a questionable mix of alcohol and sleeping pills.

They shifted together during the night, to the point where her hand is resting on his chest and her left leg is trapped under his. Robin's heart beats under her palm and there's something calming about the way it beats, slowed by sleep but steady. If he knew who she really was, he'd never allow himself into such a vulnerable position. Not that she intends any harm. The comfort in feeling his heart beat, in this entire night, makes her linger. If she would just close her eyes, she'd be asleep again in no time.

That thought spurs her into action and out of the bed. She makes quick work of her clothes while she waits for her phone to turn on. It is 4:58 according to the blindingly bright screen, more than enough time to get home and shower before work. Yet despite being fully dressed, her feet are rooted to the floor, eyes on him.

If she was someone else, she could stay. They could have breakfast and talk. He might or might not want to see her again and she might or might not want the same. Either way she could enjoy the company of a nice, attractive man without any thought. She could head straight to work and use the change of clothes in her office.

Instead Regina picks up her purse and leaves.

She thinks of him, inexplicably, more than she should in the next two weeks. A part of her wants to go back, making its opinion known on Thursday, then Tuesday, then Thursday again as she drinks through her own copious liquor supply. Getting entangled with others has never suited Regina. The best thing to do is stay away. At least that's what she tells herself.

And yet two weeks later she's back at the door, trying to convince herself to stay or leave, anything but stand outside paralyzed by indecision.

In reality, it must be less than a minute before the door swings open and she has to step back to avoid being hit, but it feels so much longer. A few men walk out, apologizing for almost slamming the door into her, but it's the wake-up call she needs to turn around and leave.

 _Coward_ her brain whispers, louder with each block in the direction of her apartment. To show that voice in her head that she's not afraid of a fucking _man_ , Regina marches right back to the bar, pulling open the door with far more force than necessary.

Robin smiles brightly when he catches sight of her sliding onto one of the stools.

"Gin and tonic," she says with all of the disinterest that she can muster, as though she didn't come here to see him.

His smile tightens in response.

"It's nice to see you again," he says, making no move to actually get her drink.

"Gin. And. Tonic," she replies, emphasizing each word.

He continues on the one-sided conversation he seems to be having, ignoring her lack of responses.

"After you left, I figured I'd never see you again. I'm glad to be wrong though."

She's almost forgotten that he annoyed her before the orgasms, kind eyes, and inexplicably liking him more than she should. Although it's different now. Her powers aren't sparking up in irritation, at least not at him.

All she needs is to tell him she feels the same way. Yet they aren't the words she says.

"If you'd prefer I could find somewhere else where the bartender knows how to make a basic drink," she snaps back.

He looks pained by her words, without any of the smugness that drew her ire last time.

"Look Regina," he starts in a lowered voice, "I saw how much you had to drink last time. You should have been completely wasted but you were barely tipsy. It takes a lot to build that kind of tolerance. I just want to make sure that if I give you this drink I'm not enabling a problem."

Her mouth falls open, just a bit, before she gets over the shock and closes it. Of all the ways she imagined this night going, this was not one of them.

"If you feel some kind of obligation to me because we slept together, you shouldn't," she replies in an equally lowered voice, trying to not sound as dismissive as she feels.

"You aren't the first person I've had this conversation with." He pauses, then amends. "Although I won't pretend I don't have a particular investment in you, it's simply because I care about you."

The way he leans forward, looking straight into her eyes such earnestness works. For a moment it's like she and Robin are the only people in the room. But once that moment passes, Regina comes back to her senses.

"You don't even know me," she protests without nearly the venom she wants.

"I know. But I'd really like to," he says plainly, like it's the absolute truth.

Her heart absolutely does not flutter at his words.

"Is this your thing, women who aren't interested in you?" she answers little too quickly, crossing her arms defensively over her chest.

"Not at all. And the fact that you came back here isn't saying disinterest," he says with a raised eyebrow.

She can't help the red flush creeping up her neck or the sigh the escapes her lips. He's right, of course, and her stubbornness is weakening.

"You win." There's the beginning of a smile on his face that grows into what she can only describe as beaming as she continues. "I didn't come here to get drunk, I came to see you. Happy?" she snaps, more in embarrassment than anger.

"Extremely," he says without a hint of the sarcasm Regina was expecting.

And maybe this time her heart flutters just a little.

"You think you can leave things to her for the rest of the night," she replies with a shy smile of her own, gesturing to the petite Asian woman at the other end of the bar mixing a drink.

There seems to be some negation while she waits but an agreement is reached and once again she finds herself in Robin's apartment.

She's already under the covers when Robin returns from throwing away the condom. The grin on his face as he joins her is almost enough to calm her nerves.

"You stayed without being asked _and_ let me undress you," he teases. "How did I get so lucky tonight?"

Regina rolls her eyes, but he can hardly infer any malice from it with the shy smile on her face.

"So tell me something about yourself," he says, after a few moments of silence. Her worry must show itself on her face because he's quick to reassure. "Nothing big, just talk to me."

 _I used to ride horses when I was growing up_ is the first thing that comes to her mind. She isn't used to this kind of genuine interest in her solitary existence but the words are out of her mouth before she can think too hard.

He asks questions and listens to her talk about Rocinante and the few times she competed until her guard is almost down.

"I was quite good at archery. Still am I suppose," he returns when she asks for his own unusual childhood hobby.

They go on trading inane facts: favorite movies, the last shows they binged on Netflix, her anecdotes from working the mayor's office and his from bartending. There's nothing of consequence, but he still manages to make her smile and laugh and feel light.

Regina hasn't felt like this, like much of anything, in so long. Since she first saw Henry in that hospital bed, it's just been anger and numbness (as a side effect of circumstance and a choice of one too many drinks). The occasional bouts of sadness have been cut off as swiftly as she can manage.

He finishes an animated story about a man caught with another woman by his pregnant girlfriend, which resulted dramatic breakups with both.

When their laughter quiets and eventually peters out, they're left in a comfortable silence that Regina has no desire to break. But Robin apparently has other plans.

"Can I ask you a question?" he asks with a seriousness that can only mean the end of their light banter.

"I'm not stopping you," she replies, against her better judgement but without hesitation.

"Are you an alcoholic? And answer me this time."

She doesn't for a while, but Robin is patient, allowing her silence while she thinks of a response.

"I don't know." He gives a quizzical expression in response. Her voice is practically a whisper when she continues. "I needed something else to fill the void and to take away the pain. Alcohol works," she finishes with a shrug in an attempt to play down the vulnerability she just expressed.

"I understand. When I lost my wife I," he pauses, voice thick with emotion, "I felt there was no reason to go on. If not for my son," he stops again, and her hand moves on instinct, interlacing their fingers. "I know how you feel, is what I'm trying to say."

Its pure instinct when Regina leans in to brush a soft, sweet kiss on his lips.

She doesn't necessarily expect him to continue with the questions when she pulls away, but isn't surprised when he does.

"Why did you decide to come to the bar that night? Why not just drink alone?" he asks with curiosity rather than any kind of judgement.

"I don't like being alone," she admits freely, the kiss clearly having soothed her as much as him.

"Maybe you don't have to be," he answers, fingers brushing back her hair and gently resting the pads on her scalp.

Regina's first impulse is to be comforted by his words and his touch, a part of her that craves it. But his meaning is clear and it causes a fear to bubble up inside her.

Robin's talking about getting help and support systems, but she's hardly listening.

She doesn't really think, just cuts him off on impulse.

"So your wife, what happened to her?"

His wife Marian was a paramedic, he tells her, who put the safety of others over herself. Their son was only two when she died helping the civilians injured in a battle between the Evil Queen and the Bandit.

He's still speaking, but it's all muted and out of focus.

She's never even heard of Marian before; the name means nothing to her. Just another bit of collateral damage in her revenge. Except to Robin and his son, to everyone else that loved Marian.

She can't imagine how Robin would feel, knowing he's been touched by hands with his wife's blood on them. That he's held those hands to comfort the woman who killed her.

"I have to go," she interrupts, bolting out of the bed, throwing on only as much clothing as necessary and stuffing everything else in her bag.

She barely makes it outside before she's throwing up.

They were all right. Cora, Leo, Gold, Mary Margaret, Emma, and Henry. All of them had seen what she'd never wanted to. Regina had tried to deny it, but there's no running from the truth now. There really is something dark inside of her that she will never escape. No matter what she does, she will always be a monster.

There's nothing for her to do but run.

There's a coffee shop across from Robin's bar. The untouched coffee she bought so she can sit at the table by the window is long cold. She took a late lunch today, one that is definitely over. But still she waits. Robin stepped outside four minutes ago. He's mostly been on his phone, though he scans the area every minute. She scans more frequently, trying to find the people he's looking for first. Her eyes pass over an older couple. She can mostly see the man, tall, grey-haired, and dark-skinned, but the woman, also grey-haired but pale, is slightly visible. Robin's eyes light up when he spots them, and only then can she see the small boy between them break free and run into his father's arms.

They look every bit the happy family, smiles on everyone's faces, all of them lingering outside to talk. But there's someone missing. A mother, daughter, wife, gone because of her.

She was supposed to wait until he was outside, sure not to see her, but she can't stay any longer. The guilt and nausea are too strong to ignore, need to be drowned along with her other demons. She needs a drink.

When she charges out of the coffee shop, she realizes her mistake. The slamming door catches Robin and his family's attention.

He calls out her name, his concern over last night obvious, but Regina pretends not to hear. If she turns around, lured by the prospect of happiness, she might not have the strength to walk away again.

She picks up her pace and reminds herself that villains don't get happy endings.


	3. Chapter 3

Summary: Based on an AU prompt list I saw on tumblr ages ago. _You're always the waiter/bartender at the restaurant I bring my dates to. You've started leaving your own personal ranking of each date in the checkbook and I don't know if I'm annoyed or amused._ Also beware of a quick mention of unwanted sexual advances, for the most part corresponding to events on the show.

* * *

There's a crash at a table in Robin's section, a shattered wine glass and its red contents on the hardwood floor, and it's his job to deal with it. He's seen the woman before, always with a different man, some of whom Robin recognizes as some of Portland's most prominent. She's beautiful in a way he's so rarely found women after Marian, with her dark hair, form fitting dresses, and something unquantifiable that turns more than just his head. She puts on fake smiles for her dates, but otherwise wears a scowl so he's more than used to seeing her unhappy but this is far beyond what he's seen before. Right now she's unabashedly glaring at her companion.

He certainly knows Keith Nottingham, corrupt police chief and the woman's date for the evening. In his opinion, the glare is likely more than warranted. The two stare at each other, tensely and with contempt, and Robin worries a screaming argument is forthcoming. But eventually Nottingham backs down, storming out in a rage rather than risking his image by airing out his anger at this woman in a fight. It's then that Robin approaches the table.

"Are you alright? Is there anything I can do for you?" he asks genuinely, because even though she barely treats (or tips) him like a human being and probably wouldn't recognize him despite the amount of times he's been her waiter, Robin will never forgive or forget the hell Nottingham put Marian through. And that if not for lax stalking laws, he wouldn't have the chance to be here causing another woman distress.

"I'm fine," she snaps at him a little too loudly, focused more on the red stain on her dress than the person talking to her.

Robin takes a deep breath, resisting the urge to snap back at her and reminding himself that he's not the one she's really angry at. He'd be equally unpleasant after a confrontation with Nottingham, probably more in her shoes given Nottingham's track record with women. A few more deep breaths tamp down his irritation enough to be sympathetic and professional.

"Are you sure? I-"

"I didn't ask for your help, so why don't you find something useful to do before they find another idiot with half a brain to do your job instead," she interrupts.

 _Typical_. It's the treatment he usually receives from the rich, entitled patrons of Portland's most upscale restaurant every day. He's not sure why he thought a pretty face would make her any better. Even as he has the thought, he knows it's unfair but it's been a trying enough night with Will out sick and the man a few tables down who has sent back every dish so far, and Robin's patience is two hours past worn down. This time he can't help letting his temper get the best of him and grumbling back.

"A simple thank you would suffice."

They stare at each other for a while, her lips pursed, his arms crossed, both of their gazes hard. Words fly through his mind, the temptation to unload on her for all of the stresses of his job. But ultimately he doesn't have the stomach for resentment and harsh words for a stranger, who's probably had a taxing dinner with Keith Nottingham, someone far more deserving of resentment and harsh words. So with a sheepish shrug of his shoulders, he musters all the empathy he can bear and speaks.

"I shouldn't have said that and I'm sorry." She give the barest nod but doesn't say anything else. "At least let me help you with that stain. If it dries, it'll be much more difficult to get out," he says in resignation after a few minutes of silence.

It seems to placate her as intended and with an exaggerated roll of her eyes and a mumbled _fine_ , she follows him to the kitchen. There's an extra chair in a fairly empty corner of the room and he motions for her to sit. It doesn't take him long to find a towel. He instructs her to lightly dab the stain on her abdomen while he rummages around for the bottle of club soda.

After a quick apology for the cold, he begins to slowly pour the liquid. She tenses a little at the first splash and the unpleasant look on her face only intensifies, but she doesn't complain. In fact she doesn't say anything but Robin can practically feel the rage wafting off of her.

"If you want to talk about what happened back there, well you need to leave the dress alone for a few minutes and I can't leave you back here alone."

He goes for casual, non-pressuring, and finishes off with a small smile. She doesn't return it, but does begin to speak.

"He wanted me to come home with him. I said no, but _apparently_ ," she rolls her eyes at that last word, "my dress was saying otherwise. He got fresh under the table and I slammed his hand up into it to clarify my refusal," she responds with detachment in her voice and contradicting fury and frustration written all over her face.

His general disgust and indignation must be written all over his face because before he can open his mouth to speak she's giving him an exasperated look and speaking again.

"Oh don't give me that look, I'm used to it."

He hates the nonchalance her voice but he can tell she wants this line of conversation to end so he doesn't push.

"Well point me to him and I'd be happy to have more than a conversation," he says with enough humor in his voice to draw a small smile out of the woman but not enough to conceal his genuine hostility. He always wants to punch Nottingham in the face, but right now Robin would relish it even more. But he pulls his temper back because there's something far more important he needs to say to her. "And for the record I really am sorry for being so short with you earlier."

She opens her mouth and for a moment he thinks she might apologize. She doesn't, just closes her mouth again but the remorse in her eyes is good enough for Robin.

They're both quiet after that. Anger is finally absent in her eyes, but it's been replaced with a slight discomfort. Her hands are fidgeting, brushing hair behind her ear then down at her sides and back again. Robin's are no idler as he busies himself clearing away the towel and club soda, trying to come up a way to break the tension and awkward silence.

He clears his throat.

"Unfortunately I can't salvage your night, but I think your dress I going to be okay. Even if it meant subjecting you to more of my presence," he says, breaking the tension.

She returns his sheepish half-smile with one of her own.

"Well I guess you aren't _so_ bad," she answers with a smirk.

"Well Keith Nottingham is basically a zero out of ten so in comparison I guess I'm not," he teases back. She smiles at him brightly, and she truly has the most radiant smile. Despite the fact the he barely knows this woman Robin thinks he might just do whatever it takes to have that smile on her face as much as possible.

"Maybe I'll see you next time," she says with a hint of something that Robin might call flirtation if he didn't think such a thing too ridiculously hopeful under the circumstances.

He can't keep his eyes off of her as she walks away.

* * *

James Spencer is a mediocre lawyer whose last great achievements were as a high school football player. And she knows this so certainly because he has replayed them for her ad nauseum. On any other night he'd probably be found at a strip club, a fact he bafflingly decides to share with her. And it's only ten minutes in.

But he's the son of Albert Spencer, Fortune 500 CEO and one of the richest men in the state of Maine. She's bored already, pretending to focus and smile and listen to this self-indulgent man talk. Her eyes dart around until they finally catch _his_. Regina looks away quickly, a slight blush on her cheeks.

She had been angry and worried what Cora would say after her scuffle with Nottingham, a fear that quickly proved well founded. Only an hour after she got home her mother was calling to berate her: _how dare you make a scene and embarrass me Regina?_ and _if you hadn't broken off your engagement to Leo, then you wouldn't have to be going on these dates in the first place_ when she tried to defend herself.

What she hadn't expected after taking her feelings out on an unsuspecting waiter was for him to call her out and then help her anyway. She still doesn't know if she's annoyed or impressed. But she does know she was wrong, and that's not something she likes to admit. But her unease about seeing him again, it's more than just her pride. She couldn't get his kindness out her mind ( _pathetic_ , says Cora's voice in her head for being so hung up on a man simply being nice to her), especially since she'd been so _unkind_. And well, he certainly isn't bad to look at, which only exacerbates the problem. But Regina Mills is no coward, or so she likes to think, so she tries to act like nothing ever happened when he comes by to take their order.

She succeeds until dinner ends and she's looking forward to getting the check and leaving without this asshole. But when she receives it there's a small scrap of paper inside.

 _I'd give him a 2/10. You looked like you'd rather be anywhere but here. And he tried to order for you._

 _\- Robin_

He's watching her, she can feel it, so she rolls her eyes. But she's also fighting back a grin, the review of her date spot on without knowing the half of it. Even Regina can't tell if she's annoyed or amused. She doesn't acknowledge the note when he returns to collect her check, but if she tips a little extra, well she's in a generous mood.

* * *

Two weeks later, the woman is back again, this time accompanied by a man with bleached blond hair. He practically feels her presence as soon as she walked in. It takes great restraint to keep his jaw from dropping when she passes him by in her velvet backless dress. More enamoring is the smirk she throws him over her shoulder, the evil glint in her eyes revealing that no matter how hard Robin is trying to control himself, she knows exactly the effect she's having. And really how could a woman so gorgeous not?

It takes a slap to the back of the head from Will to break her spell over him. If not for his job, Robin could probably have stayed lost in her all night, making it all the more baffling that her date cannot stop ogling every woman who walks by. He spends the next hour in a state of annoyance, his mind protesting that _he_ would never behave in such a way if she was his date. But then Robin reminds himself that he doesn't even know the woman's name, that this is just a one-sided attraction so it's not like he has the right to such thoughts in the first place.

When he gives the woman her check, Robin can't resist leaving another note for her. He saw hint of a amusement last time, and he's hoping to remedy the fact that she hasn't smiled all night.

 _Anyone who could spend a date with a woman as stunning you looking at anyone else isn't worth your time._

 _4/10 at best._

 _\- Robin_

 _P.S. What's with that hair?_ he jots down and slips it in with the bill. It's not a full blown grin when she reads his note, but her small smile is enough.

Robin gets caught up in another table, a frightening woman with black and white hair who is demanding gin while her date just rolls her eyes. Eventually it escalates from Robin attempting to calmly explain that no, ordering the most expensive item on the menu does not entitle her to smoke in here to a full blown screaming fight with her girlfriend that only ends when Ruby threatens to call the police. By the time Robin makes it back to the woman's table, she is long gone and he's exhausted. On the table lays his note with a new, neater handwriting on the back.

 _Don't think I didn't see him asking the waitress with the red streaks for her number too. Just another arrogant doctor who talked about himself all night. Four is too generous._

 _\- Regina_

 _And yes that hair is ridiculous. I've seen teenagers with better style judgement._

 _Regina_ he mutters to himself. It suits her, with her poise, that haughtiness, and the steely strength hiding in her eyes. Another little piece of her he files away with all the others he's been unconsciously cataloguing.

"You're fucked mate," Will says, sliding next to him with a knowing look and Robin doesn't even bother to deny it.

* * *

Regina has hated going on dates ever since Cora set her up with Leo Blanchard on a Friday night after her biology lab sophomore year of college. Now that she's single again, but unacceptably older according to her mother, dating has only gotten worse. Every man Cora finds that will bring Regina and by extension Cora more wealth and social prestige is worse than the last and never yields a second date.

But over the past month Regina's started to look forward to what have now become weekly setups. Instead of stalling and avoiding telling Cora that each date didn't work out, she is more frank with her mother than she's been in years, even if she's still accepting more dates. And at some point between sneaking glances at him when she's sure he and her companions aren't looking and refusing to go out on Sunday nights after realizing Robin doesn't work them, Regina has to accept that she just wants an excuse to see him.

Of course she could just be an adult about the whole thing and simply go talk to him. But she can't stand to admit to herself why his rating of her dates were the best part of her evenings, or why she came back to the dresses that really kept his eyes on her. Instead Regina reminds herself that he probably does this to every woman on a bad date in hopes of getting laid or that he's just being friendly because he feels bad for her so either way she shouldn't feel special. She's waiting for the day it will stick.

When he gives an extra point to an arrogant tech prodigy for his Star Wars checks, she only hesitates for a moment before deducting the point and writing about how much Daniel loved those movies. And once she's started she can't leave out how she'd tried to watch them after his death, but still found them totally unwatchable. When he asks why she's going on dates with such _undeserving idiots_ (and her heart can't help but flutter when she reads that), there's no way to avoid what definitely qualifies as too much information about her dysfunctional relationship with Cora. And when Robin questions the age of a hedge fund manager around Leo's age, she doesn't at all hesitate to agree with his concerns and cite the many problems with her former fiancé. And somehow she manages to open up more to this stranger through scribbled notes than any man she's spent dinner with the past few months.

But from the first moment he _really_ looked at her, Regina should have known she was screwed.

Regina is well aware of her beauty, works hard at it for the most part. It's become a weapon, one she has no qualms using to get what she wants. It's what Mother had always taught her. She's so used to men looking at her, desiring her, that she's almost numb to it. There's no satisfaction or repulsion to it, just fact. But when Robin looks at her, _god_ , her heart rate spikes and she feels butterflies like a sixteen year old. He bites his lips when he does it, and Regina suspects he doesn't even realize but _she_ does and it brings out an unexpected intensity of _want_ in her. It's been so long since she's wanted to be desired and even longer since that desire has affected her.

And she can't exactly let that thought continue because she's supposed to be pretending to be interested listening to an investment banker, or tech billionaire, or whatever loser is sitting on top of their family's old money talk about their huge houses and expensive cars and various accomplishments and all Regina can ever think is _overcompensating_. Or at least that's what she's thinking right now about the cockiest man she's ever met who's sitting across from her now and rapidly oscillating between spitting out innuendos and talking about his (apparently?) very impressive boat. She smiles, reminding herself to write that one down for Robin. She can feel his eyes on her right now, and out of the corner of her eye Regina can see him shooting her occasional glances.

"Regina," her date says insistently, breaking her out of her thoughts. He doesn't look angry, but that doesn't mean he won't say something to Cora, so she schools her features into her best fake apologetic face.

"I'm sorry?"

"I just asked if you wanted dessert love. Although I'm starting to get the feeling you don't even want to be here."

His voice trails off, clearly expecting her to jump in and contradict him.

He's an attractive man, dark-haired and blue-eyed, with the kind of ego men who have no trouble getting women into bed possess. It probably would have worked on her too, except that all Regina thinks about when she looks at him is the man she'd rather be with.

"Of course I do," she answers with her best effort, a moment too late to be convincing.

He gives her an incredulous look. To Regina's surprise, the corners of his mouth begin to tick up.

"You and the waiter keep flirting," he replies, leaning in close and raising an eyebrow in challenge.

She starts to protest indignantly but she hardly gets out the _we are not_ before realizing the absolute lie of her words and mumbling out an apology.

"Don't worry about it. If it makes you feel any better love, you're really not my type and there is also someone _I'd_ much rather be with right now." There's something serious in his gaze and reverent in his voice for a moment, gone as soon as it comes, but it's obvious that underneath the bravado he does really care about this person. "My father pushed and I'm only here to appease him," he finishes, scratching behind his ear with something close to vulnerability written on his face.

"My mother keeps setting me up, and I don't know how to refuse her and well..."

It all spills out too fast for Regina to stop herself: the night they first spoke and the notes, how much she looks forward to seeing Robin and the absurd number of dates she's been on since.

"I mean this is probably just what he does to get laid," she finishes, making an attempt at nonchalance but even to her own ears sounding insecure and a little hurt.

"I don't know love, that seems like quite a bit of work. And honestly he seems pretty focused on you," he says, jerking his head to the side.

She turns to where he's motioned and there's Robin, taking the order of a bickering couple a few tables over, his attention is clearly on her as the two argue. He smiles when they lock eyes and she can't help the blush that heats up her face.

"We don't even know each other," she protests weakly, tearing her eyes away from Robin. That smug smile is back on Killian's face as she makes the excuse so clearly neither of them believe what she's saying.

"And you never will if you keep sitting here like a coward, hoping for something to happen. My brother always said that if you don't fight for what you want, you deserve what you get."

She opens her mouth to defend herself, even though he once again has her pegged, when she spots Robin walking over and immediately shuts it. Killian thankfully drops the topic and answers (to a question she hasn't realized was asked) that _no they do not want dessert, just the check please_ , shooting her a meaningful glance while she wills the blush creeping up on her to stand down without much success. Robin gives her a dimpled grin as he leaves and she can't help but return it, even as anxiety clouds her brain.

"Yup, the both of you completely smitten," Killian says smugly, apparently his very annoying default state.

Regina grumbles _shut up_ like a petulant teenager, which only increases the smugness.

Without warning he drops the endearments and the smirks for something softer.

"You and I are a lot alike Regina." She starts to interrupt with an _I doubt that_ , but he's quick to contradict her. "No, try as you may to hide it, you're afraid you don't deserve to be happy. And maybe you don't." She glares at him, conveying every bit the venomous _fuck you_ she isn't saying out loud, and he does look genuinely cowed, more conciliatory when he speaks again. "Maybe neither of us do. But the people who care don't tend to see it that way," he finishes softly, that vulnerability back in his voice, and it occurs to her that perhaps he's right to think they have common ground. Not that she's planning on admitting it.

Regina's saved from formulating a response by the arrival of the check. Robin smiles at her as always but it's tighter this time, and though she tries to catch his eye, he's already hurrying away to a woman waving him over at another table.

She opens the checkbook, relieved to see the slightly messy handwriting she's come to recognize.

 _He seems nice. And he brought out that elusive but satisfying smile you like to hide away. I think you might have found yourself a possibility. 8/10._

 _\- Robin_

"So," Killian asks, one eyebrow perfectly arched, "what's it going to be?"

All she can do is pick up the pen and write.

* * *

Robin's never seen her smile this much at any of her other dates. She's never been this engaged, leaning in close to talk to the man. He tries to tamp down jealousy, to be happy that she may have found someone in the parade of rich jerks her mother sets her up with. All in all, Robin thinks he's not doing that badly, having avoided taking any of his feelings out on Regina, her date, or any other unsuspecting patrons.

Will and Ruby have been openly mocking him for weeks now about the furtive glances and notes. Tonight is no exception, a new comment flung his way in every free moment that leaves Robin thinking that perhaps he isn't pulling it off after all.

He loses sight of Regina in the busyness of a Saturday night and by the time he gets back to Regina's table, there's a new couple seated and he can't help feeling both relieved that he doesn't have to witness them any longer and irrational dread about what the two of them might be up to now that they've left.

When they reunite just before closing Will has a shit-eating grin on his face.

"What?" He can't help the trepidation in his tone. After all no good has ever come from that expression in the past.

Will hands Robin a note without replying and takes a seat next to Ruby where they watch him eagerly.

He reads the note, then rereads it again to make sure he isn't imagining things. But on the second time the paper still has _I'm tired of this bullshit, let's go out sometime_ and a phone number neatly printed in Regina's familiar writing.

He's so blinded by the phone number and the possibilities it allows that he almost doesn't notice the _ps I'm pretty sure you'll be a 10/10_ at the bottom.

"Get out of here Locksley," Ruby says, breaking him out of the spell Regina's note seems to have him under. "Go get your girl."

He doesn't need to be told twice, grabbing his coat and digging his phone out of the pocket. As he walks away Ruby yells after him.

"And don't think you won't be giving us all the details after all the pining we had to sit through."

Robin throws up a haphazard middle finger over his shoulder as he goes through the door, leaving the sound of laughter and Ruby's wolf-whistles behind.

He refuses to agonize over what to say, typing out a message and hitting send before he can reconsider.

 **Funny, I also think we should go out sometime. I do have one condition though.**

It takes less than 30 seconds for her reply to pop up.

 **The suspense is killing me.**

He can imagine the way she's rolling her eyes, can feel all of her sarcasm in the words. The thought makes Robin smile as he types out his answer.

 **We need to find another restaurant.**

It takes her longer to text back this time, almost a minute, and he hopes it's because he's made her laugh.

 **I think we can make that work.**

* * *

 _3 Weeks Later_

"I was wrong about you," Regina says, breaking through the silence with a teasing lilt and a still new softness that he's come to recognize since their first date.

It takes him more time than it should to process exactly what she's saying but Robin thinks he deserves a pass given that he's on the edge of sleep and pressed skin to skin to a woman who is stunning in every way after frankly the best sex he's had in a very long time.

"And what exactly were you wrong about?" he murmurs into her hair, using the arm he has draped around her waist to pull her closer.

She doesn't immediately respond, too busy wriggling around in his newly tightened to plant a quick kiss to his lips.

"It was hasty of me to say you were a ten. I mean after that you have to be at least an eleven," she flirts and he cannot imagine the novelty of Regina flirting with him will ever wear off.

"While I'm flattered that you're anticipating an upward trend, I feel like you might be underselling how good that was," he teases back.

She raises an eyebrow at that, and he anticipates a caustic retort. But it appears he still has much to learn.

"Well I can hardly base such an important evaluation off a single data point. And we _do_ have tomorrow all to ourselves so I'm sure we can _come_ to a well," Regina pauses, a mischievous glimmer in her eyes, " _satisfying_ conclusion." The seduction in her tone is very quickly undercut by her burst of laughter. "I'm sorry, that was laying it on a bit thick, wasn't it?" She asks rhetorically.

Still he answers, compelled to keep the smile on her face by teasing her again.

"Anything you say in that voice is automatically sexy." She opens her mouth, and he this time he does know she's going to sass him on this so Robin cuts her off before she has the chance. "Nope, sorry. I don't make the rules, it's just true."

As intended her smile grows brighter, and he meets her halfway for another languid kiss.

"Screw the rating system, you're perfect," she says quietly when they finally break apart, with a softness and wistfulness he never could have imagined coming from her when they first met.

"Well you have plenty of time to discover my many flaws-" Robin starts before Regina interrupts.

"Just shut up and spoon me before I take it back."

She's already turning away from him, but he can _hear_ her smirk.

They settle back together and he will do as she ordered, but there's one thing he has to say first.

"For the record I think you're pretty perfect too."

And once again Robin doesn't need to see her face to know he's brought out that less and less elusive and oh so satisfying smile of hers. With that image in mind and the woman he's rapidly falling in love with relaxing in his arms, Robin easily sleeps.


End file.
